106. Progress of Unbelief
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NOW is the Autumn of the Tree of Life; |
| Its leaves are shed upon the unthankful
earth, |
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Which lets them whirl, a prey to the winds' strife, |
| Heartless to store them for the months of
dearth. |
Men close the door, and dress the cheerful
hearth, |
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Self-trusting still; and in his comely gear
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| Of precept and of rite, a household Baal rear. |
But I will out amid the sleet, and view |
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Each shrivelling stalk and silent-falling leaf. |
| Truth after truth, of choicest scent and hue, |
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Fades, and in fading stirs the Angels' grief, |
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Unanswer'd here; for she, once pattern chief
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Of faith, my Country, now gross-hearted grown,
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Waits but to burn the stem before her idol's throne.
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At Sea.
June 23, 1833.
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